


Infection of Inkopolis

by Legendary_Map_Maker



Category: Splatoon
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Ambiguous Relationships, Angst, Discrimination, Fantastic Racism, Female Agent 3, Female Agent 4, Female Agent 8, Fictional Racism, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mute Agent 4, POV Third Person, Pandemic - Freeform, Quarantine, Racism, epidemic, female agents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:27:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23250172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Legendary_Map_Maker/pseuds/Legendary_Map_Maker
Summary: What seemed like a long flu season turned into a pandemic when it is discovered many alleged flu cases were caused by a newly found illness. Already spread far and wide, cephalopods across the nation need to work together---and apart---to combat this existential threat.In this fanfiction inspired by current events, the members of the New Squidbeak Splatoon must each individually handle the challenges of a viral threat. Can they handle a threat they cannot directly fight?Additional Information, Subject to Change (SPOILERS):-Potential Triggers: mention of disease/illness, mention of immunodeficiancy, quarantine, social distancing, reference to current events, fictional racism/xenophobia, mention of immoral experiments.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	1. The Calm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While waiting for Agent 8 to team up in ranked matches, Agent 3 watches Inkopolis News. Meanwhile, Marie picks up her cousin from the airport.

Inkopolis Square: a bustling hub of cephalopod activity and energy. A circle of shops and businesses surrounded the biggest social center in Inkopolis. Dozens of humanoid sea creatures---such as inklings, octarians, and jellies---were gathered discussing recent gossip with one another. Even after Off the Hook's last Splatfest, the area was still the place to be for anyone who was anyone to do anything worth doing.

Among all its services, the most valuable was the local Turf War lobby, Deca Tower. Two teams of players walked out of Deca Tower wishing each other good sportsmanship as they each passed an orange-haired inkling in a dark hoodie. The inkling was leaning against a wall with her arms crossed, listening to music through her Hero Headset Replica.

As another team walked by her, this one to enter Deca Tower, she pulled out her phone to check the time. Her friend was running late. She had been waiting here so long it was almost time for Inkopolis News to announce the next rotation of stages and ranked modes.

As if on cue, Off the Hook's intro theme for Inkopolis News played. Despite her headset, the inkling could still hear the two hosts announce the current news. She glanced to her left and saw the duo was recording it live from their studio adjacent to Deca Tower.

“Y'all know what time it is!” a short inkling with white and pink tentacles cheered.

“It's Off the Hook, coming at you live from Inkopolis Square!” a tall octoling with black and teal tentacles added.

“Yo, Marina, before we start, let's give people the deets!” the short inkling said.

“That's right. We have an important PSA for everyone. It seems the flu season is lasting a little longer this year. Remember to wash your hands and stay home when sick.” There was a pause as the sound of a record scratch could be heard. The inkling guessed they were transitioning to sharing the current stages.

Despite the transition, the shorter inkling continued with the flu PSA. In an uncharacteristically serious tone, she said “Yeah, it ain't fresh to play Turf War when your sick. What if one of your teammates is immunocompromised?”

There was another brief pause. The inkling had met the pink-haired inkling before, and to be bluntly honest, she was surprised she even knew what immunocompromised meant. Finally, Marina broke the silence. “Um, thanks for the additional PSA, Pearl. You ready to tell people about the current stage rotations?”

Without hesitation, Pearl went back to their main topic. “Check it! Here are the current regular battle stages!”

For the rest of the news segment, they listed the regular battle stages as Moray Towers and The Reef, the ranked battle stages as Clam Blitz for Inkblot Art Academy and Muscleforge Fitness, and the league battle stages as Tower Control for Camp Triggerfish and Pirahna Pit.

After waiting for the news to end, the inkling used the SplatNet app on her phone to message her friend. She would try to be polite, but she had been waiting for two hours.

\---

  
**■Webmaster■ Agent_3J has joined the chatroom.**  
Agent_3J > 8 whats taking so long?  
InnerAgent8 > ?  
Agent_3J > We were supposed to meet inInkopolis Square 2 hours ago.  
InnerAgent8 > !  
InnerAgent8 > I'm sorry! I forgot that was today! I thought it was yesterday!  
Agent_3J > You thought we were supposed to meet yesterday?  
InnerAgent8 > No  
InnerAgent8 > I thought today was yesterday.  
InnerAgent8 > I will be on my way there soon!  
Agent_3J > Seeya. And keep your distance from people. The flu is still going strong right now.  
InnerAgent8 > Okay.  
**■Webmaster■ InnerAgent8 has left the chatroom.**

\---

  
The same day, an inkling with white-and-green hair had just picked her cousin up from the airport. As her cousin buckled her seatbelt, the inkling asked “So how did filming go, Callie?”

“Great!” Callie answered cheerfully, a large smile spread across her face. Her smile shrank slightly. “There was one issue though... “

The green-haired inkling reached across and opened the car's glove-compartment and---without looking---pointed to a pink, squid-shaped phone held inside. “You left this behind?”

“Yeah...” Callie admitted. She picked it up and tried to turn it on. When it did not respond, she assumed the battery was dead and put it away. “I wasn't able to keep up with everyone, Marie, so could you tell me what the Splatoon's been up to lately?”

Marie kept her focus on escaping the parking lot, so she didn't make eye-contact. However, her thinking was visible on her face as she tried to summarize the recent events of each of the agents. “Well... I've been working on my next solo album. And I've been trying to see if our manager would let us get any of our friends involved; like, think about how well Agent 3's mixing could go with one of our songs.”

“Yeah, totally!”

“Speaking of 3... she and 8 have been trying to climb to X rank together in league battle. As a side note, Agent 3 hates Clam Blitz, and she insists Clam Blitz hates her.”

Callie sighed. “Does anyone even like Clam Blitz?”

“Someone's gotta, somewhere...” After a dramatic pause, Marie continued. “Anyway, Pearl and Marina are apparently preparing something big for their next album, but they won't say what. Then-:”

Reminded of something, Callie interrupted “What does 'immunocompromised' mean?”

“'Immunocompromised'? It means a bad immune system.” Before Callie could ask another question, Marie added “Meaning you get sick easier, and regular sicknesses can be really bad for you. Why do you ask, is everything alright?”

“What? Oh, yeah, totally! I just heard it on the news recently and wasn't sure what it meant,” Callie explained.

“Why didn't you just...” Marie stopped herself.

But Callie finished the sentence for her while holding up her phone. “...Look it up?”

“Right...”

There was a pause. “So, what are Gramps and 4 up to? I'm sure you know exactly what 4's up to,” Callie teased. Her teasing was in reference to Marie's Agent 4 Factopedia, a possession of Marie's which Callie was uncertain in regards to its legal status.

Ignoring Callie's comment, Marie answered the question. “Gramps' been playing old-people games with Octavio.”

“Which ones?”

“Mostly Go and shogi, but a little chess too.”

“I thought you liked Go?”

Marie gave a signature smirk. “I do, but it's still an old-people game.”

“Okay, Grandma,” Callie joked.

Marie realized she had been too busy driving to say any sass of her own. To rectify this, she continued to answer “Agent 4 has found herself with a lot of free time lately, with you not getting squidnapped or brainwashed for the last two weeks, so she's been doing some extra shifts of Salmon Run and working at the café.”

“It was one time!”

“Twelve, actually, but who's counting?”

“Fine... But why is she doing extra shifts instead of enjoying her time off?”

“Well,” Marie began, realizing she would have a relatively long story to tell, “She and 8 have been having some issues with their landlord, so she wants to save enough money to move into a different apartment building.” Callie was about to speak, but Marie continued “And she's not accepting donations, before you say anything. I've already tried...”

“What about Agent 8? Isn't she saving money, too?”

Marie sighed. “She is, but 4 wants to split it evenly: 80-20.”

“Wait, who-:”

“Agent 4 is paying the 80%, but I only know that from my Factopedia research. As far as she's told anyone, it's 50-50. Can we change the subject, this one... annoys me a little.”

“Okay.” Callie stared out the window as Marie turned out of the airport's parking lot and finally onto the main road. She watched the people bustling about the area, trying to find their way from point A to point B and point Y to point Z. The sky was mostly blue, but a light, orange tint was visible from the setting sun. “Did you see the news today? With Pearl and Marina?”

“No, hadn't gotten around to it. What are they talking about to bring up 'immunocompromised'?” Marie looked at the traffic light ahead and saw it was still green, so she kept at her current speed.

“Apparently people are still getting the flu right now. I'm not sure why everyone is so worried though.”

“The flu usually isn't too bad, but sometimes-:” Marie slammed on the brakes. Some car made an illegal turn in front of her. “Nice driving squidbag!”

The rude driver stuck a finger out their window as they soared by.

Callie took a couple deep breaths to recompose herself. Marie apologized to her. “Sorry about that. What was I saying again? Oh right: People can still die from the flu.”


	2. The First Drop of Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Callie has gifts for the New Squidbeak Splatoon.

“Great job today, you two,” a jelly in a suit told Off the Hook shortly after the news broadcast. He turned towards Pearl. “But in the future, please stick to what's on the cue cards.”

Pearl leaned back casually into her chair. She gave a glance at Marina who sat across the table from her before she turned to their producer. “Yo, some of our best stuff happens when we go off-script.”

“Also some of your worst stuff, too,” the jelly added. He turned to Marina. “For example, our ratings dropped a little that time you revealed Inkling wasn't your first language.”

“Sorry about-” Marina began.

“Yo!” Pearl interrupted, standing up. She pointed furiously at the jelly with a stomp. “Anyone who gave a fu- a heck about that doesn't _deserve_ to be watchin' our show!”

Marina stood up behind Pearl and put a hand on her shoulder. “Calm down, Pearl. It's no big deal...”

Pearl sat back in her chair with a humph. She mumbled “It _is_ a big deal, and you know it...”

“I agree it's an unfortunate truth,” the jelly said, looking down. “But it's an example of why you need to stick to the script. You understand?”

Annoyed, Pearl nodded with her arms crossed.

The jelly left the room, but before he closed the door, he turned back and said “Also, I'm more forgiving than most producers. You might want to watch how you to talk to people, Pearl. Some people won't turn a blind-eye to attitude so easily.”

“My 'attitude' is why people love me,” Pearl said, regaining her casual composure.

“Your attitude is why your _fans_ love you,” the jelly corrected. He shut the door, and he was gone.

“I was meaning to ask,” Marina began, “why did you add that part at the end?”

Pearl broke eye-contact with Marina and looked at Inkopolis Square through the window. She watched as a familiar octoling bounced towards a familiar inkling. “I have... a family member with a suppressed immune system. I can't afford to get sick because it could kill them.”

Marina gave her a look of sympathy. “I'm sorry to hear that. Is it okay to ask who it is?”

“I probably shouldn't say. Medical confidentiality and all that sh- crap.” Pearl looked around the room. “Heck. I forgot to ask Jellvin to bring us a thing of hand-sanitizer.”

“I could probably go find one,” Marina offered.

“Uh... sure. Just be careful not to catch anything.”

\---

“I swear if we get one more disconnect...” Agent 3 grumbled. She and Agent 8 had finished ranked battles for the day. So far, they had climbed in Tower Control nine-tenths through S rank with three cracks. On their way to Agent 8's apartment, they each grabbed a Crusty Seanwich.

“You've still been winning,” Agent 8 said with her mouth half-full. She held her Seanwich in one hand and her Octoshot Replica in the other.

“But not every time. Even we can't even out a two-v.-four.” Agent 3 glanced down at her Splattershot; she had finished her Seanwich before they had reached the apartment building. She then looked at a sign by the staircase mentioning where each apartment was. “Which floor was your apartment on, again?”

“Room 203 on floor 2,” Agent 8 answered. “Why would someone say yeah, to join a match, and then leave?”

“I've no clue Eight...” Agent 3 said as they went up the stairs. Once on the second floor, Agent 3 looked down the hall and read the number on each room. The third door down the hall, on the right side, was labeled as Room 203. Also on the door was a piece of paper with red ink. “Eight, what's that?”

“Hmm?” Eight asked as she just finished the last bite of her Seanwich. Agent 8 approached the door and removed the paper, slowly scanning over it. While it was upside down from her perspective, Agent 3 read the paper as well. It wasn't difficult to decipher the large “NOTICE” at the top. Eight had a worried look on her face, and gripped the paper. “Wait... oh no, oh no, oh no!”

“What happened, what is it?” Agent 3 asked, now worried herself.

“It says we were late on paying rent again, and now we owe a late fee...” Eight looked up at Agent 3. “But I know late we weren't! I myself paid it to him, in person!”

“Is there any proof you turned it in on time?”

“Just word our against him...” Agent 3 had noticed Eight would slip up her Inkling grammar when stressed. Agent 8 sighed, then took a few deep breathes. “We can't move out of here soon enough...”

“I'm sorry,” Agent 3 said, unsure of what to say. She looked down at her Splattershot. Fighting was so much easier. She looked back up when she heard the Agent 8's front door unlock. Agent 8 retracted her keys from the door and put them back in her pocket. As Agent 8 lead them inside, Agent 3 asked “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“It's fine. We almost have enough to move out already. That is why Agent 4 couldn't join us in ranked today.” Eight dropped her Octoshot Replica on the table in their living room.

Agent 3 had not been in Eight's apartment very often, but it looked as she remembered it did. A small living room with shelves of storage, a kitchen just to the side with a counter full of dirty dishes, and a short hallway leading to two small bedrooms and a bathroom. Eight walked by her as Agent 3 set her own weapon beside Eight's.

“Do you want anything?” Eight asked. “I can make us something after I do some dishes.”

“We just ate,” Agent 3 said.

“I still feel hungry,” Eight answered. She turned on the sink, grabbed a nearby sponge, and set to work on the dirty dishes.

Agent 3 sat on the couch and rested her feet on the table. She pulled out her phone and noticed a notification. It read “SquidbeakChatroom: BombRusher > Helloooo!~ (^.^)/ I'm back fr...”

Agent 3 called to Eight “Callie sent a message to the chatroom!”

Eight called back “Can you tell me what it says!”

\---

BombRusher > Helloooo!~ (^.^)/ I'm back from New Sardine!~

BombRusher > Bad news: I left my phone at home, so I couldnt' use it while I was gone. ( ; - ; )

BombRusher > Good news: it just finishde charging!

BombRusher > Fresh news: I got everyone agift while I was there!

CraigCuttlefish > Splendid! ♪

BombRusher > When is a good time to meet for gift giving? ⊂( ・ ̫・)⊃

CraigCuttlefish > Ill be in Octo Canyon keeping an eye on Octavio.

■ **Webmaster■ DJ_Hyperfresh has joined the chatroom.**

DJ_Hyperfresh > Pearl and I are just about to leave the studio. We can see you guys on our way home. :)

■ **Webmaster■ Agent_3J has joined the chatroom.**

Agent_3J > I'm with Eight at her apartment. We don't have anything planned for tonight.

BombRusher > I'll meet OTH on my way to Gramps.

BombRusher > Then I'll bring it to 3 n 8 at your apartment.

BombRusher > (☆^O^☆)

BombRusher > Is 4 there?

Agent_3J > Eight says she'll be working until late. You can leave it here and she can get it when she's done.

BombRusher > I want to see everyone's reaction to my gifts! ;-;

BombRusher > I'll wait for her to respond with a good time to meet up.

\---

An inkling with short yellow tentacles awoke early one morning. She had received such little sleep, she didn't even need to wipe the dust from her eyes. She heard her phone vibrate against her nightstand, so she picked it up to see what it was. With her free hand, she covered a cough.

She took a moment to focus her vision before she saw she had two notifications. The first listed a couple dozen unread messages from the SquidbeakChatroom. The second listed an increasing number of unread private messages from BombRusher.

“BombRusher: 51 new messages.”

“BombRusher: 52 new messages.”

“BombRusher: 53 new messages.”

She had to get to work soon, but she needed to know why Callie was spamming her so much. She hoped there wasn't an emergency with the Splatoon. Mr. Grizz didn't offer paid time off.

\---

BombRusher > 4

BombRusher > 4

BombRusher > 4

BombRusher > 4

BombRusher > 4

BombRusher > 4

BombRusher > 4

■ **Webmaster■ 4tunate is now online.**

BombRusher > 4

BombRusher > 4

4tunate > what

BombRusher > 4

BombRusher > 4

BombRusher > There you are!

4tunate > whats happening

BombRusher > I've been trying to get you your gift for the last two days!

■ **Webmaster■ 4tunate is now offline.**

BombRusher > 4

BombRusher > 4

BombRusher > 4

■ **Webmaster■ 4tunate is now online.**

BombRusher > 4

4tunate > u dont need 2 give me anything

BombRusher > 4

BombRusher > Too late!

BombRusher > I already bought it!~ (≧∇≦)

4tunate > i have work

BombRusher > Grizz or caf?

4tunate > cafe then grizz

BombRusher > When's your break?

4tunate > 10

BombRusher > I'll see you then! Enjoy your gift!~

BombRusher > (｡･ω･)ﾉﾞ

■ **Webmaster■ BombRusher is now offline.**

4tunate > ty

■ **Webmaster■ 4tunate is now offline.**

\---

Agent 4 covered another cough. Then, she began getting ready for work.

\---

“Y'all know what time it is!” Pearl cheered.

“It's Off the Hook, coming at you live from Inkopolis Square!” Marina added.

“We got more breakin' news for y'all today,” Pearl said in a quieter tone.

Marina nodded sadly in agreement. After a scratch of her mixing table, their screen showed a picture of a sick cartoon inkling. “Last night, a new virus was discovered. It has flu-like symptoms, and there is reason to believe our extended flu-season has been caused by the new virus. More testing and research must be done to know just how dangerous it is.”

“So be ready 'cause Turf War might shut down later today,” Pearl said. “In a few hours, the mayor of Inkopolis will make an announcement with more details.”

“You can also check the official site to read more about this.”

“Enough being sad!” Pearl said in a chipper tone no one could tell was forced. “Let's tell 'em about the stages, 'Rina!”


	3. Incubation Period

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While the inkling mayor of Inkopolis, Mayor Onsoon, has shut down turf war matches until further notice, all seems normal for the Squid Sisters.

“Good morning, Inkopolis.”

Inkopolis News, as well as every other news station in Inkopolis, was broadcasting from in front of the capital building of Inkopolis. An inkling in a suit slouched in front of a microphone before a sea of reporters, his age visible by his dry skin. His wrinkled grey tentacles were tied back in a ponytail. The man fiddled with a ring on his left hand as he spoke.

“I am Mayor Murray Onsoon. I regret to inform you all of a recent revelation. A new virus, yet to be named, has been running rampant as of late. Recent tests have confirmed a dozen unique, unconnected cases. Beyond reasonable doubt, I can say there are hundreds---if not thousands---of cases we have yet to find and contain.

“While it carries very flu-like symptoms, we have noticed they are more severe than a regular flu, particularly among the young, elderly, and immunocompromised. In fact, this is how we discovered the virus in the first place; the virus was discovered as the cause of death to an old jelly during an autopsy. Beyond its current dangers, early analysis implies it is highly capable of mutating into a more dangerous strain.

“For the health of my city, all Turf War matches---regular and ranked, public and private---will be shut down until further notice. For the unaware, it would do well to remember ink is the quickest way to spread an illness. Additionally, all public schools will shut down tomorrow at the latest. These orders shall take effect no later than one hour from now at noon.

“As we speak, we are looking into the logistics of shutting down other non-essential businesses if possible.” Mayor Onsoon stood up straight as he cleared his throat. “I will do whatever is necessary to protect the citizens of my city from this epidemic.”

Mayor Onsoon began to walk back into the capital as the reporters in the audience attempted to swarm around him. Security jellies held out their tentacles to keep the reporters back, but their questions still echoes up the steps.

“How contagious is the new virus!”

“Isn't it a little early to consider this an epidemic!”

“Can you confirm reports of this virus in other cities!”

“Are the rumors true the virus came from _illegal_ octarian immigrants!”

“Should the people prepare themselves for a quarantine!”

Mayor Onsoon turned back and stated “I have an important meeting to attend. I will have the answers to your questions by the end of tomorrow!”

As all the reporters took a moment to write down what he said, the security jellies had an opportunity to back away back into the capital building. As the doors shut, Inkopolis' government began its first real steps in deciding what further precautions, if any, would be necessary to prevent catastrophe.

\---

■ **Webmaster■ BombRusher has joined the chatroom.**

BombRusher > I finally delivered all my gifts!~

CraigCuttlefish > Freshness!

DJ_Hyperfresh > Thanks again for those new headphones.

■ **Webmaster■ InnerAgent8 has joined the chatroom.**

InnerAgent8 > Hello.

BombRusher > Hey!~

InnerAgent8 > I'm bored.

InnerAgent8 > Ranked is closed, 4 is working, and Coral is not answering messages.

BombRusher > It's weird there shutting stuff down alreay. (O.o)

CraigCuttlefish > USE CODE NAMES!!!!

DJ_Hyperfresh > It makes se

DJ_Hyperfresh > ?

DJ_Hyperfresh > What's up Cap?

CraigCuttlefish > In the chatroom we must stick to code names!!!!

BombRusher > Literally everyone here already uses their real name lol

InnerAgent8 > Your username is your name.

CraigCuttlefish > The octarians already know our names

DJ_Hyperfresh > ?

CraigCuttlefish > EXCEPT!

CraigCuttlefish > 3 and 4.

BombRusher > There are octarians here... (；¬＿¬)

CraigCuttlefish > I meant bad octarians.

DJ_Hyperfresh > Anyway...

CraigCuttlefish > Sorry. ♪

DJ_Hyperfresh > It makes sense they're already taking precautions. There is a lot of evidence a lot of people have already been infected. And because they just found it, they have no idea how dangerous it is.

DJ_Hyperfresh > Pearlie is already getting ready for quarantine. I recommend you all do the same.

BombRusher > I'm sure it will be fine. ( •⌄• )✧

DJ_Hyperfresh > I'd still be careful just in case. Especially you Cap. You're in a vulnerable group.

CraigCuttlefish > I heard you youngins are at risk too. 0.0

DJ_Hyperfresh > By young, Onsoon meant babies.

CraigCuttlefish > Be careful....

\---

“Hey, Marie!” Callie called from one end of the Squid Sisters' shared apartment.

When she heard the call, Marie was in the process of getting ready to leave for the recording studio. She was wearing an outfit meant to hide her identity, the same as her current agent outfit: a green hoodie, a green Firefin cap, and a white facemask. While putting her sneakers on, Marie called back from the other end of the apartment “What!”

“Wanna go grocery shopping later!”

Marie groaned. “We just went two days ago!”

“We should have more supplies in case they close down stores!”

Tired of shouting, Marie grabbed her purse and marched to Callie's room. She saw Callie, still in pajamas, sitting upside down against her bed, her phone in one hand. Beside her was a bag of chips, and her other hand had orange-tipped fingers from a layer of cheesy chip dust.

Softer, Marie said “They're not going to close stores... and why weren't you this worried when I told you about the news earlier?”

“I wasn't as worried then,” Callie admitted, looking embarrassed.

Marie softened her expression, not wanting to upset Callie further. “I can't today. I have to do some recording for my next solo-album. Then, later today, I need to record for that dumb studying show.”

Callie was struck with an idea and jumped up from her seat, then bounced in place. “Ooo! Ooo!”

“What?”

“I don't have anything planned for later! Is there room for a surprise guest star on your show?”

Marie considered it a moment. “We'll probably have to check with our manager, but I suppose it should be fine.”

“Yayer!” Callie cheered. “Give me a moment to get dressed!”

“Um...” Marie began, “I need to leave now, actually. I'll text with our manager's answer, as well as the address to where the studying show is filmed.”

“Wait, you don't film it here?”

Marie chuckled, covering her mouth as she did. “Have you ever seen it filmed here? Did the show look like it was filmed here?”

“Point taken.”

Marie waved Callie goodbye. “I'll see you later.”

\---

“Hold on to your tentacles!” Callie cheered with a fist in the air. She wore a pink beanie, a pink jacket, and a white t-shirt.

“Shhhh,” Marie shushed. Since earlier, she had changed from her casual outfit into her kimono outfit. She sat at a low-table beside Callie, and they each had their own microphone. “Welcome to 'Problem Solved: Studying with Marie!', a _quiet_ show where we put focus on learning with a hint of procrastination.”

“'A hint-'” Callie began at regular volume before she received a look from Marie. Quieter, she said “'A _hint_ of procrastination'? I've seen this show before, and there is more than just a hint.”

Ignoring her cousin's comment, Marie turned toward the camera and gestured toward Callie. “Tonight, we have a special guest: Callie Cuttlefish. Known better as the other Squid Sister.”

“Hello!” Callie whisper-cheered.

“I know some people may be stressed by recent events, so we'll take this as an opportunity to do something relaxing. We're going to play an old-people game---” From behind the table, Marie lifted a wooden board marked with a grid of 18x18 squares. On top of the board were two wooden bowls, each with lids. “---Go.”

Callie groaned. “You always win on the 19x19 board...”

Marie opened both the wooden bowls, revealing they each held a collection of pebbles. Callie took the bowl with black pebbles while leaving Marie to take the bowl with white pebbles. “Would you like to play with a handicap?”

“No, I'll beat you this time!” There was a determined smile on Callie's face. Callie slammed a pebble against the exact center of the board.

Marie calmly placed a pebble in the corner. “Would you like to explain the rules?”

“Sure!” Callie answered. As she spoke, she would make moves quickly after Marie's. Meanwhile, Marie made slow moves of her own while she hunched over the board. “So we got these rocks-”

“Stones,” Marie corrected.

“-that we take turns putting on the corners of squares-”

“Intersections.”

“-to try to claim as much space-”

“Territory.”

“-as possible. If all the intersections next to our stones-”

“Liberties.”

“-are filled by enemy stones, then our stones are captured. BUT!-”

“Shhh...” Marie repeated.

“-if your stones are touching, then they share liberties.”

Marie played a stone such that one of Callie's stones was surrounded on all sides but one. “Do you want to tell them what 'atari' is?”

“Ummm...” Callie looked at the stone, thinking. She played a stone of her own attaching to it. “When a stone is one move away from being captured.”

“Where can we place a stone?” Marie asked as she played a stone on the other side of a group of Callie's stones.

“Anywhere on the board,” Callie answered as she placed a stone along the edge of the board. It was on the other side of a group of Marie's stones.

“Except for where it would immediately die,” Marie clarified as she captured a group of Callie's stones.

“Since when was that in atari!” Callie shouted, surprised.

“Shhhh...”

“Sorry,” Callie whispered. Quieter, she whisper-shouted, “Since when was that in atari?”

Marie was focused on the board as she answered “For a while now, but I only needed to capture it now.”

“Okay, is that all the rules?” Callie asked, pouting about the position.

“The last one is Ko; you can't make a move to recreate the exact position we were just in.” Marie placed another stone on the board. “What can we tell our viewers about the position?”

“You're winning...” Callie mumbled.

Marie sat up straight and gestured to some of Callie's groups of stones. While Marie's white stones were spread across the board with areas of empty space, Callie's black stones were isolated with very few territories enclosed by them. “Because you played too aggressively. You tried to kill alive groups, and you made invasions guaranteed to be dead.”

“But Gramps says he beats _you_ by being aggressive!”

“Because he knows how to be aggressive, and how aggressive to be. I play very safely, so you can't just capture all my stones. You need to focus on taking territory I'm leaving unclaimed.” Marie hunched back over the board. “Are you ready to resume playing?”

“Not really...” Callie groaned. “I think it's clear you won.”

“I suppose we forgot to mention the last rule. The game ends when both players agree it is over. Then, we count territory to determine who won.” Marie sat back up and began to count the empty intersections on the board.

“I'd rather not know how many points you have.”

Marie looked up at Callie. She thought for a moment. “Very well. We'll leave it to the viewers at home to count the score. We'll leave it on screen for a minute. Maybe we should try to play a game against viewers...” Marie looked at a clock behind the camera crew. “Actually, that's all the time we have.”

“Well then, until next time...” Callie began. Marie caught exactly what she wanted to do.

“Stay fresh!” They both cheered, using their iconic poses.

“And stay healthy!” Callie added.


	4. Quarantine Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inkopolis is shutting down, Agent 3 shares a suspicion of hers with Eight, and a business is operating in the shadows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have updated the list of trigger warnings at the time of this chapter: I added the warning "mention of immoral experiments."

■ **Webmaster■ 4tunate has joined the chatroom.**

BombRusher > Hey 4!~ (^.^)/ How si it goin?

Agent 2 > Hello 4.

4tunate > everything is shutting down

DJ_Hyperfresh > I'm guessing you saw the news?

4tunate > yeah

DJ_Hyperfresh > Weird we aren't hosting it anymore.

MC.Princess > Took em long enough. If they didn't shut it down, I would've just left

MC.Princess > honestly, they've been slow doing anythin about this virus

MC.Princess > Should've done somethin days ago.

InnerAgent8 > They did do something.

InnerAgent8 > They shut down Turf War and etc.

MC.Princess > But a lotta other places with lotta peeps were still open.

InnerAgent8 > 4, what are you going to do with the cafe closed?

DJ_Hyperfresh > They are acting fast though

4tunate > find another job

BombRusher > I know! I know!

Agent 2 > Callie, I'm right next to you.

DJ_Hyperfresh > When we had epidemics in Octo Valley, they usually tried to hide it from the lower-ranking soldiers. When it became really bad, then they would contain it, but it usually hit a lot of people by then.

Agent 2 > You don't have to yell what you're typing!

BombRusher > Sorry. (*´∀｀*)

BombRusher > 4, you can help us with filming!

MC.Princess > YO! Not cool!

Agent 2 > That sounds horrible.

BombRusher > Guys... (; - ;)

MC.Princess > I meant what Rina said.

BombRusher > Oh...

Agent 2 > Callie, what are we filming?

BombRusher > We gotta record stuff from home now, so~

BombRusher > We could have 4 help!

Agent 2 > Callie, cover your mouth when you cough please.

BombRusher > Sorry, got a little excited... wasnt paying attenton.

Agent 2 > And we don't have the equipment to film any of our stuff.

Agent 2 > So we should just enjoy this time off.

4tunate > i already found a job

BombRusher > What is it? We'll pay more

4tunate > gotta go shift soon

■ **Webmaster■ 4tunate has left the chatroom.**

MC.Princess > I don't think its a good idea to be goin out rn.

MC.Princess > You'll just spread it more.

InnerAgent8 > ?  
InnerAgent8 > Be right spine. Message from Coral

DJ_Hyperfresh > Wrong type of back, 8.

■ **Webmaster■ InnerAgent8 has left the chatroom.**

■ **Webmaster■ CraigCuttlefish has joined the chatroom.**

BombRusher > Hey Gramps!~ (^.^)/ How is it goign?

CraigCuttlefish > They named the virus.

Agent 2 > What is it called?

DJ_Hyperfresh > Really?

CraigCuttlefish > You wont like it...

MC.Princess > What name wouldn't we like?

\---

When Eight first came to Inkopolis Square, it was a surreal experience: a series of bright lights and loud noises. A place of electronic billboards, sprawling graffiti, and blaring music. Yet among the chaos there was joy. There were more smiling faces in one place than she had ever seen in her life. Despite her amnesia, she knew this to be true. But it wasn't overwhelming, it was mesmerizing.

No longer was she another cog in Octavio's empire. In Inkopolis, she had the freedom to choose her own path, her own destiny.

She knew she had made the right choice to come to Inkopolis. Eventually, most of her memories returned, but to symbolize her new life, she took a new name. Of course, at the time, her inkling vocabulary wasn't strong enough to know “eight” was their word for a number.

Now, she stood in Inkopolis Square again. Equipped both with her Squidbeak agent uniform and original Octoshot, she waited for Agent 3. Of her outfit, another notable detail would be a golden toothpick in her hair. She hoped Agent 3 would arrive soon, for she found herself uncomfortable by the silence of today's Inkopolis Square.

The most unsettling part was, ironically, the sunlight. It beamed intensely on the Square creating a beautiful, warm spring day. Under normal circumstances, Eight would wait alongside Agent 3 for a smoothie from the Crust Bucket. The line would've wrapped around the Square twice over, and cephalopods would be squeezing through it to access Deca Tower.

Instead, the virus had turned the Square into a ghost of its former self. The billboards had been powered down, the graffiti had begun to fade, and the music had long since been turned off. There were no cephalopod faces in the square, much less smiling ones. If anyone had come to the Square, what would they even do with all businesses closed?

While shops had been shutting down since the virus was discovered, any still open were mandated to close by noon today. Mayor Onsoon announced as much alongside the current infection figures: 10,000 confirmed cases and 42 confirmed deaths. Five days deep into the epidemic, four days after Turf War closed, yet no confirmed recoveries from the new virus.

Agent 8 looked up to the large television mounted to Deca Tower, just below the Great Zapfish. On a regular day, an Inkopolis News broadcast would occur any second. Today, the television for Inkopolis News just scrolled with a reminder to avoid contact, stay inside when possible, and a few addresses for testing. Eight would be following none of this advice right now.

“Eight, there you are,” a familiar voice hissed from a corner of the Square, the corner closest to the abandoned subway system. It was Agent 3. Just like Eight, she was donned in her agent gear with her weapon in hand. “I need to speak to you. Privately.”

“Cor- er, Agent 3!” Eight called. She ran up to her friend. Aside from Agent 3's recent, cryptic message, it had been days since they had last spoken even digitally. “You said that in the text, didn't you? And why are we meeting here?”

“Ironically, I think this is where we'll meet the fewest people,” Agent 3 said, briefly glancing around the empty square. She retrieved something from her pocket. It was a small, blue remote shaped like a fish. “Do you remember this?”

“A CQ-80 device...”

“An _employee_ CQ-80 device,” Agent 3 clarified. Mixed with her usual, grumpy expression, she had a determined look on her face. “We need to check things out in the Deep Sea Metro. I just _know_ it'll be connected to this virus.”

“How?” Agent 8 asked. It had crossed her mind there could be some connection between the epidemic and Tartar, but illnesses occurred naturally all the time. Furthermore, if Tartar had orchestrated the virus, it would be far worse than just a flu. Agent 8 shuddered at the thought of a contagious, sanitized disease.

“When we were in the Deep Sea Metro, you saw the public facilities and stations, but I was stuck in the employee-only areas...” Agent 3 trailed off and took a deep breath. It was rare she spoke about her experience in the Metro, so Eight knew whatever Agent 3 was talking about had to have been serious for her to break her pattern of silence. After a pause, Agent 3 resumed grimly “...And I saw some of his experiments. He was studying the effects of different diseases on... he was testing them.”

Agent 8 wasn't sure how to respond. She felt a shiver from what Agent 3 had said. “Testing what?”

Another pause from Agent 3. She didn't make eye contact with Eight. Eventually, she answered “The diseases and how octarians react to them...”

“Were any of them like this virus?”

“Maybe. I didn't stay around there long. That's another reason why we're here.” Agent 3 turned around and pointed to the corner she came from. “We need to go back to the Deep Sea Metro.”

Eight put a hand to the toothpick in her hair. She thought she was done with that place, that she would never need to go there again. She looked at Agent 3. While the Metro was unpleasant for her, Agent 3 seemed to have seen far worse. If she would go back there, to that nightmare, than Eight would too. “Okay. When do we leave?”

Agent 3 turned back to Eight with a smile on her face, and she took what was clearly a sigh of relief. Then, she regained her serious, tough composure and stated---not asked---“Why do you think I recommended we meet in our agent uniforms.”

\---

“Glad you could make it,” a gruff voice crackled through a bear-shaped radio. In a cluttered room filled with anti-salmonid propoganda, the radio spoke to a small group of inklings and octolings. There were more octolings than inklings. “With the current epidemic, our operations are lawfully required to shut down. However, the salmonids are not going to stop for anything. If we shut down, then it won't be long before they overrun the city.”

Some members of the group gave a nod of agreement. Some were starting to lose interest. One inkling in the back with short yellow tentacles had only been half listening, her stomach churning each second. She just wanted Mr. Grizz to verify what he said in his initial message to each of them, about the overtime pay.

  
“I know some of you aren't in it for the glory. You're here for the pay. Let me preface by saying I only called for the workers I knew could keep a secret, the workers I knew I could trust. For as long as the epidemic lasts, your pay will be increased tenfold.” This regained the interest of the group. “However, I will warn you there may be legal troubles if you participate. I will do what I can to protect you if necessary, but so long as you keep your lips shut, there'll be no shame in backing out now.”

A couple inklings in the front of the room nervously glanced at each other. One gave Mr. Grizz a brief apology before they both slipped out the front door. Only when the door slammed itself shut did Mr. Grizz speak again.

“Any more objections?” Mr. Grizz asked. The room was silent for a moment. “Then you're past the point of no return. Get in gear, the boats leave in ten minutes with or without you.”

The group began to shuffle their way to the changing rooms. There was chatter among the group, and a cough.

“Who was that!” yelled Mr. Grizz. Everyone froze. No one stepped forward. “If you thought this business was dangerous, wait until you're passing out on Spawning Grounds with a dozen Cohocks on you because you forgot to wash your hands. That cough better have just been from dust. If any of you catch the virus, I don't want you showing up. You understand?” No answer. “You understand!”

There was a flurry of verbal confirmations from each member of the group.

The one who coughed, the inkling girl with yellow tentacles, had hoped no one knew it was her. She knew she was sick, but it couldn't have been the new virus. She had been sick before the virus was even found. She probably just wasn't getting enough rest, having worked any free shift she could for both. It must've been fatigue which caused any bright light to disorient her, made it hell to stand, and limited her lungs to half-capacity. Even in just shorts and a tank-top, it felt as though she was being broiled alive.

But it would be worth it. Soon, she could escape that horrible landlord. Once she left behind the fraudulent late fees, oppressively rising rent, and unannounced visits from the landlord, she could afford to take time off. Then, maybe she could actually save money, too. Buy gifts for the Splatoon, properly thank them for the kindness they'd shown her. She winced in guilt thinking about the nice sketchbook and pencils Callie had bought her. Callie was sure to remove the price tag, but Agent 4 knew it costed too much.

She took a deep breath and grounded herself. Her health wasn't the priority, the money was. She grabbed her gear and was ready to go. She hoped they would leave soon. She was getting less ready by the second.


	5. Antediluvian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two old people play an old person game as they discuss current events, Callie isn't feeling well, and Agent 4 is the hero of Salmon Run.

“That name is as wack as your rhymes!” a large octarian inside a snowglobe shouted at an old inkling. The large octarian crossed two arms and held a pair of wasabi sticks in two other arms. While he was scowling at the inkling, the wrinkles on his face implied it was his default expression.

Outside the snowglobe, on the other side of an empty Go board, sat the old inkling. He wore a green tracksuit with various medals pinned to it, and a white cap covered his balding head. He adjusted his glasses and commented “Funny, I thought you would have hated the name 'Octo-Flu,' but I guess it can't be too bad if you're gonna compare it to my rapping.”

“I hate it, and you know it! Stupid, dried-out, squid-raisin...” grumbled the large octarian.

“Well, if I'm so dumb, I guess _I_ should be black this time,” the old inkling responded. He played a black stone on a star point in the corner of the Go board with a smug look behind his beard.

“Fine! Any stone you play'll die anyway!” shouted the large octarian again. After a “Hmph!”, he looked down and mumbled “Why did they name it _that_...?”

“Some people think the virus came from the octarian immigrants,” the old inkling answered, also not making eye-contact.

“That's ridiculous!” shouted the octarian.

“I agree!” shouted back the inkling, looking up and glaring at the octarian. He looked back down at the board and sighed. Quieter, “I agree. We don't know where it came from, and with how fast it's spreading, we don't have time to point fingers.”

There was a pause of silence. Eventually, the octarian broke the spell and mumbled “4-4 point in the opposite corner...”

The inkling played a white stone as the octarian instructed. Then, he played a stone of his own in a third corner. “I have worse news...”

“What could make this worse?”

“I've been intercepting some of your military's transmissions-:”

The octarian bashed a wasabi stick against the snowglobe. “You have no right, Cuttlefish!”

“Quiet down and be glad I did!” After the octarian was no longer pressing himself against the glass, the Cap'n Cuttlefish continued “They're also encountering cases of the virus.”

“My people...” was all the octarian managed to say.

“Octavio?” Cap'n Cuttlefish asked. “Can I trust you?”

\---

“Callie, have you had lunch yet?” Marie asked, knocking on Callie's bedroom door. Marie had just woken up---she was a night-owl after all---so she still hadn't had breakfast. She was thinking of making a few pancakes and wondered if Callie would eat any. When Callie didn't respond, she knocked again. “Callie, do you have headphones on or something? I'm making pancakes.”

It was noon, a perfectly reasonable time for Marie to wake up, early even, but extremely late for Callie to still be asleep. Marie knocked on the door again, louder. “Callie! Are, you, even, in, there!”

She heard a groan from the other side. “Shhh...” shushed the voice from the other side.

Marie was taken aback. Usually, Callie was the noisy one. Usually, Callie was the one waking her up. Softer, she said through the door “Are you feeling okay, Callie?” Callie mumbled something Marie couldn't hear. “Could you say that again?”

An annoyed Callie groaned “Not really...”

Then Marie remembered the virus and the epidemic.

A surge of panic overwhelmed her, about how Callie was sick and how this was bad. She had to remind herself Callie wasn't in a vulnerable group, and it was all that stopped her from mentally breaking down on the spot. She had almost lost Callie before, she didn't want to risk it again. She again reminded herself Callie was _not_ in a vulnerable group. Then she thought about the people Callie had been with lately, how it could have spread to them. Marie realized she too was also likely infected. She thought about the people she had seen recently, hoping none of them were in a vulnerable group.

Marie took a deep breathe.

“I'll be right back, Callie,” she promised through the door before she ran for her phone.

It wasn't a long phone call. She asked the health clinic about the nearest testing site, what they would need for the testing process, and what the testing procedure would be like. She was given an address, told all supplies would be there at the site, and that because they were still young enough, they just needed to provide ink samples.

They were both still in pajamas when they arrived at the testing site. Callie had brought a pillow and practically went back to sleep during the drive, her eyes squeezed shut, and Marie stayed quiet so as not to disturb Callie. It was a little warm that day, but according to Callie's grumblings, they may as well have been in an oven.

When they pulled in to the site's parking lot, Marie stayed in the car just as the person on the phone had instructed. She didn't like listening to Callie's breathing, for the breaths were currently short and labored, but it was the only sound in the car as Marie waited for someone to come to the car for the test.

There were many other cars in the parking lot, and people in heavy, protective gear would loop between some random car and the medical truck in the back of the lot. Marie assumed they were jellies based on their shape, but she couldn't tell because of how many layers they each wore.

Eventually, after an hour of waiting, one came to the Squid Sisters' car. They gave Marie and Callie each a small flask resembling a small ink tank and requested an ink sample.

“How did they get so many of these ready so quickly?” Marie asked as she returned to the maybe-a-jelly both flasks, one with green ink and the other with pink ink.

“It's the same process for testing most viral illnesses, and we already had quite a few ready in case of emergency,” they answered in a jelly-accent. They put both flasks separately into their own zip-top bags. “Now, stay isolated and get plenty of rest. Based on our data so far, the symptoms will only get worse if you push yourself while sick. If you do anything strenuous, it will take away from the energy your body needs to recover.”

Marie thanked the most-likely-a-jelly before she rolled the windows back up and drove her cousin and herself home.

\---

“Help! Help! Help!” three down coworkers practically chanted to Agent 4 at Lost Outpost as she grabbed a hold of a golden egg by the coast. She was currently equipped with a pair of Splat Dualies, and she was occupied with dashing between cohocks to deliver the last golden egg before the run ended. On all sides, she was surrounded by the salmonids and their sickly green ink. She knew she had to maneuver carefully to avoid their attacks.

In the distance, she saw a wall of chums marching toward her from the basket. Her breathing was heavy and intermingled with coughs, and she found it difficult to focus, but regardless of her condition, she knew she had to turn in this egg. This one egg meant the difference between a successful and a failed run. This one egg was worth a lot of money.

To the best of her ability, she made a plan. She inked as much of a path between her and the basket as she could in only three shots, then entered squid form. She swam directly at the chums and jumped over them at the last instant. As they all swung their weapons at her, she re-entered her humanoid form and activated the dualies' dodge roll to boost herself over the chums and toward the basket, landing at its base.

Just as she dropped the last egg into the basket, she felt the blunt force of a cohock bash into her head with its massive frying pan. She flew through the air and crashed into a wall, landing into a puddle of salmonid ink below it. If she had any bones, they would've all broken then and there.

Her already blurry vision went completely dark, and she felt yesterday's breakfast make a return; she had not eaten since the day prior, and lunch and dinner had already came back to say hello in earlier incidents.

After some time, she grounded herself back in the now, and she noticed the green ink below her hand been covered by a layer of orange ink. All around her, her teammates were each cheering “Booyah”s.

“Do you need help getting up?” an octoling girl asked, offering a hand. Agent 4 declined and pushed herself off the floor, finally getting up after a couple attempts. Her coworkers cheered again before two of them superjumped back to the boat. The same octoling from before had stayed behind. “If you don't feel like superjumping---which, after a hit like that, totally understandable---I can ask the boat to come closer to pick you up.”

After a pause to think, which was actually rather difficult for Agent 4 right now, she gave the octoling a nod of confirmation.

Once she was finally back on the boat, she immediately searched for somewhere to rest. After she sat down, the same octoling came up and sat beside her. “Did you see the stats for this run?” Agent 4 shook her head no---she doubted the octoling knew Inkling Sign Language, barely any inklings knew either. “You delivered the most eggs, 42 of our total 70.”

Her other coworkers were nearby and joined the conversation. An octoling boy said “A good job was done when you put the last egg in the place it goes. Fresh jump!”

An inkling boy, the fourth coworker, scoffed. “You're both talking so much about her jump at the end, why wasn't anyone talking about when I did the same thing earlier?”

“Because you jumped over a single chum, and you dodge-rolled into it,” the octoling girl answered. She turned back to Agent 4. “I can tell the captain to send you back to Inkopolis before we go to the next run, if you'd like.”

The octoling reminded Agent 4 a little of Marie, often asking if she needed help. She didn't. She would be fine. She just needed to push through it.

She shook her head no and stood up from the bench. She immediately regretted standing, but she pushed through it. She didn't need help, she was certain of it. She just needed to push through this fatigue. She _will_ push through it.

A message chimed through all of their radios. Through the crackle, a grizzled voice said “Next run starts soon. If you're all ready, you'll be back at Lost Outpost in about twenty minutes.”

The octoling girl picked up her radio and looked hesitantly at Agent 4. She sighed, then said into the radio “All of us are ready. Over.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates may slow down for the foreseeable future. Fortunately, I have the next chapter written and will post it in a few days.
> 
> Do people mind author's notes at the end of chapters? I worry it would take away from the story, and could interrupt the flow when reading all the chapters in a row.
> 
> Any and all feedback would be appreciated for my writing. I've gone a while without creative writing, so this fanfiction has helped serve as a warm-up.
> 
> Lastly, to the user who commented on Chapter 4 (who I will not name because I worry their username is their real name, and I do not want to be responsible for any kind of doxxing), I hope you enjoyed this chapter. :D


	6. Surface Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cap'n Cuttlefish adds someone to the NSS' chatroom. Agents 3 and 8 continue their exploration of the Deep Sea Metro. Marie gets a distressing phone call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I would update with this in a few days. Things happened. For now, I consider this fanfiction on indefinite hiatus, but I have tagged it as discontinued because there is a non-zero probability I will not update it again. As a warning, this chapter ends in cliffhangers if you would prefer to turn back now.

■ **Webmaster■ MC.Princess has joined the chatroom.**

■ **Webmaster■ DJ_Hyperfresh has joined the chatroom.**

MC.Princess > Yo!

MC.Princess > Sup!

DJ_Hyperfresh > How is everyone handling being locked inside?

Agent 2 > Callie's sick.  
DJ_Hyperfresh > With the virus?

Agent 2 > Yeah

Agent 2 > We got tested yesterday. Both positive.

MC.Princess > STAY INSIDE!

Agent 2 > We know.

Agent 2 > Callie couldn't even leave if she wanted to, she's not even feeling well enough to leave her room.

DJ_Hyperfresh > Will she be okay?

Agent 2 > Should be. She's not in a vulnerable group.

CraigCuttlefish > Can I add someone to chatroom?

MC.Princess > Who

Agent 2 > Who?

DJ_Hyperfresh > Sure. You have admin privileges.

Agent 2 > Don't know why you gave him that.

Agent 2 > Remember when he accidentally deleted the chatroom?

■ **Webmaster■ 0ctoKing! has joined the chatroom.**

Agent 2 > It was just after the concert.

MC.Princess > Whose that?

Agent 2 > Gramps...

DJ_Hyperfresh > It's not...

0ctoKing! > WHAT IS THIS

CraigCuttlefish > I assume you've all met Octavio

0ctoKing! > WHY ARE MY LETTERS BIG

■ **Webmaster■ DJ_Hyperfresh has left the chatroom.**

MC.Princess > Wait, you mean the big bad dude?

0ctoKing! > WHO ARE YOU

Agent 2 > Why the #$@% did you add HIM?

0ctoKing! > WELL IF IT ISNT CALLIE CUTTLEFISH

MC.Princess > Marie, actually.

0ctoKing! > WELL IF IT ISNT MARIE CUTTLEFISH

MC.Princess > I gotta go talk to Rina

MC.Princess > PEACE!

■ **Webmaster■ MC.Princess has left the chatroom.**

CraigCuttlefish > I added him so I could talk with him remotely.

Agent 2 > Why do you need to!

CraigCuttlefish > He and I are working together to combat the virus in octo-territory.

CraigCuttlefish > Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on him.

0ctoKing! > THE SCREEN WENT DIM

0ctoKing! > WHY ARE INKLING MACHINES SO STUPID

Agent 2 > I don't need this.

Agent 2 > Let me know if 4 joins, she hasn't been answering my texts.

■ **Webmaster■ Agent 2 has left the chatroom.**

CraigCuttlefish > Tavi, wanna see something cool?

0ctoKing! > SHOW ME HOW TO SHRINK LETTERS FIRST

CraigCuttlefish > ♪

0ctoKing! > HOW DID YOU DO THAT

■ **Webmaster■ Agent_3J has joined the chatroom.**

■ **Webmaster■ InnerAgent8 has joined the chatroom.**

0ctoKing! > 8

0ctoKing! > HOW MANY AGENTS DO YOU HAVE

Agent_3J > That better not be who I think it is...

InnerAgent8 > Why are they typing like when Cuttlefish first joined?

CraigCuttlefish > This is Octavio.

InnerAgent8 > Bye

■ **Webmaster■ InnerAgent8 has left the chatroom.**

Agent_3J > Listen Cap.

Agent_3J > We just wanted to mention we were still on our way to the Metro.

Agent_3J > This alternate route we're trying is a bit slower.

0ctoKing! > WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT

Agent_3J > You

Agent_3J > Quiet

CraigCuttlefish > What alternate route.

CraigCuttlefish > ?

0ctoKing! > SLIMY LITTLE INKSTAIN

Agent_3J > Remember how 4 heard about the Metro through echoes.

Agent_3J > We're trying to find it through the abandoned subway terminal.

CraigCuttlefish > Wait, why were you going to the Metro again?

Agent_3J > To destroy Tartar.

Agent_3J > Gotta go, 8 heard something.

■ **Webmaster■ Agent_3J has left the chatroom.**

CraigCuttlefish > ♪

0ctoKing! > WHO IS TARTAR AND HOW DID YOU DO THAT THING AGAIN

0ctoKing! > IM SO CONFUSED

CraigCuttlefish > ♪

\---

Starting from the abandoned subway terminal in Inkopolis Square, Agents 3 and 8 had slowly made their way to the Deep Sea Metro. What started as a path through cobwebs and old trash lead to cold alleys of stale ink. The tunnels sounded both silent and loud at the same time. There as no life in these tunnels for a long time, yet they could heard ghosts of old conversations echo against the walls.

Now, the agents doubted they were alone. They heard a sound, a fresh sound, emit from somewhere down this hall. Just around the corner, something was clanking its footsteps against the metal floor.

“You heard that too, right?” Agent 8 asked her companion. Agent 3 had a point, most of Eight's time in the Metro was spent places meant for public use. Even the most disturbing stations had some level of presentation to them. Meanwhile, these halls were like those she and the captain aimlessly wondered when she first awoke in the Metro.

“I did,” Agent 3 confirmed. She didn't have the same luxury as Eight during the Metro incident. Her entire journey _was_ aimless wandering. Using an employee's CQ-80 device she had found, she did what she could to try to find the Captain. When they gave off a distress signal, Agent 3 was able to track them, but... something unpleasant happened to her afterward. She preferred not think to about it.

“I'll go first,” Agent 8 said as she stepped in front of Agent 3. After a moment of hesitation, and against her better judgment, Agent 3 agreed. Agent 8 turned toward her and quickly asked “Throw out a seeker, I'll follow it.”

The seeker inked a path to the bend. Agent 8 slipped into her octo-form. Then, she swam through the path and jumped out with her gun aimed at the source of the noise.

It was a sanitized octoling in elite armor, but she was unarmed and unresponsive. She looked up at Agent 8 with a glazed look in her eye. Eight hesitated, and the octoling turned away.

“What was it?” Agent 3 asked.

“A sanitized...but it didn't attack?” Agent 8 answered, confused, lowering her gun. “It's safe, Agent 3.”

“Okay.” Just as Agent 3 rounded the corner, the sanitized octoling turned around and gave Agent 3 the same glance. However, to her she did respond. The sanitized octoling began to run down the hallway. Agent 3 gave chase. “After it!”

Agent 3 threw a seeker forward to lead the way, and it detonated just before it could reach the octoling. Both agents swam after the octoling, Agent 3 throwing out an occasional seeker to give them a path to swim in. Eventually, the octoling reached a large door, swung it open, and fled threw it.

Agent 3 was about to swing the door open herself, but Eight stopped her. “We don't know what's on the other side, we have to be careful.”

“You're right.” Agent 3 held her gun ready and motioned for Eight to do the same. Steadily, she approached the door. In a swift series of motions almost like clockwork, Agent 3 opened the door, Agent 8 jumped through the doorway, and Agent 3 followed behind, slamming the door shut behind them.

With the door closed behind them, the two agents were able to see the extremely familiar sight ahead of them. What they saw were three train station platforms. In the center of the central platform was a pile of broken parts and glass. Beyond the pile were a few lockers and a vending machine. Lastly, there was a train stopped on their right.

“Central Station,” Eight muttered, mentioning the name of where they were. She lowered her weapon. Looking beside herself, she saw Agent 3 taking deep breaths, her eyes firmly on her feet. She put her free hand on Agent 3's shoulder. “It's okay, we're fine. Fine we will be.”

Agent 3 noticed Eight's grammar was slipping, but made no comments. Instead, she pushed Agent 8's hand off, and---without looking up---she mumbled “I know. I know.”

Agent 8 pointed upward. “Is that where we go should?”

Agent 3 looked up to where Eight pointed, to a hole in the ceiling. “Yeah...”

“Eight, Coral, it's been a while,” a familiar voice called from the other end of the platform.

\---

Marie still showed no symptoms that evening while she made dinner for Callie and herself. As she stirred the soup, she hummed Callie's hit solo: Bomb Rush Blush. She felt it would be too conceited, even for her, to casually listen to her own music, but she had no such reservations for her cousin's music.

She heard a loud cough approach the kitchen. She saw her cousin, whose skin was a feverish-red, whose arms were clutching a pillow, at the entrance to the kitchen. “Go back to bed Callie, I don't want you coughing all over dinner.”

“Or what, I'll get you sick?” Callie questioned. It was followed by a giggle, a yawn, and another cough. “I can't be out of bed all day...”

Marie wagged a finger. “You can and you should; you need the rest. Also, I don't appreciate you using sass like that. It's _my_ trademark.”

“If you don't use a trademark, you lose it,” Callie giggled. She retreated to the dining room and sat in a chair. She placed the pillow behind her head and leaned back into it. “You haven't really been roasting me that much lately.”

“This virus is doing a fine job of that already.” Marie sprinkled some pepper into the soup. “Seriously, go back to bed. I'll bring you your soup when it's ready.”

“I don't wanna...” Callie groaned.

“Y'know, your symptoms get worse the longer you're sick. If you're not stuck in bed now, you will be soon,” Marie pointed out.

Callie was quiet a moment. Marie used this as an opportunity to concentrate on adding the last ingredient to the soup. Out of the blue, Callie said “Sorry.”

“For what?” Marie asked.

“For getting you sick...” Callie mumbled.

Marie paused. “Oh, it's fine. I probably would've gotten sick anyway. Besides, when you're better, you'll make up for it by helping take care of me.”

“Will I get better?”

“Of course you will!” Marie yelled. Realizing what she did, she glanced over at Callie, who had winced. Internally, she cursed herself. Externally, she quietly apologized. “Sorry. Of course you will. You aren't in a vulnerable group.”

“Has anyone recovered from it?”

“I just read about it earlier. The first person recovered from the virus today.” This was a lie. Marie had not read the news that morning, for it was all about the virus, the increasing number of infected, the dropping value of stocks. On the bright side, music sales were apparently up. Marie just continued to stir the soup to hide her guilt.

“Thanks,” Callie said with a small smile. She grabbed her pillow and held it in a hug. Then, she got up from her chair. “I needed to hear that.”

“No problem. Now _please_ , go back to bed. I don't like being the mom.”

“But you're so good at it,” Callie joked. Marie's phone rang, playing the Calamari Inkantation. Callie looked at it, confused. “Does that mean the soup's ready?”

“No, it's a call, not a timer.” Marie picked up her phone and read the caller ID---it was an unknown number. She sighed and answered it. “Who are you and how did you get this number?”

A gruff voice spoke from the other end. “Excuse me, miss...Two? Ma'am, you're the emergency contact for one of my workers. She goes under the alias of 'Four'.”

Marie dropped the ladle into the soup.


End file.
